


Trees and Stars

by Bardaholic



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Artist Clarke Griffin, Bottom Lexa (The 100), Clexa, Drabbles, F/F, Fluff, okay the second chapter is smutty so i've bumped it up to explicit to be safe, one shots, soft lexa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2020-06-28 00:18:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19800775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bardaholic/pseuds/Bardaholic
Summary: Clexa drabbles, wooooooo.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I think I'm destined to have drabble collections for every fandom I ever write anything for because I'm useless at writing stories and plots. Kicking things off nice and fluffy. Lexa is a babe and Clarke has a lot of feels.
> 
> *End note got away from me a bit... I swear it was just a sentence, a thought, but then I couldn't stop and it's really gross.

Clarke was born and raised in space. She had spent most of her life so far looking out at the stars, gazing at the earth from a distance. She’d spent countless hours staring out of the viewing window in her room, daydreaming about life on the ground and depicting it in images using whatever she could get a hold of on the Ark.

Then she’d been propelled to the ground with the other prisoners. She had landed on earth, finally felt her feet touch soil and grass. She was able to see and touch real trees, feel the texture of the bark and study the veins and vibrant colours of the leaves. She had looked up to find a blue sky above her, filled with fluffy white clouds. She was able to swim in lakes and experience the stars and moon from a new breathtaking angle. She’d felt the thrum of raindrops against her skin. She had seen the sun rise and set, bathing the sky in fiery colours, and had thought that she would never see a more spectacular sight.

But now she was seeing Lexa come undone beneath her hands. The stoic, ruthless commander reduced to soft sounds, soft expressions, soft skin with muscles straining beneath the surface. All for her. Green eyes turned dark, brimming with emotion. Arched back, fingers grasping at her shoulders, wanting to be rough but trying to be gentle. Goosebumps and fine hairs standing on end in the wake of feather-light touches.

A short, sharp cry. Eyes closing. Body trembling and collapsing. Sharp collarbones and jaw beneath Clarke’s lips. Satisfied sighs. Desperate hands trying to pull Clarke impossibly closer.

Lexa’s eyes open again, glistening with tears as she reaches for Clarke and draws her in for a deep kiss. Soft, full lips dancing slowly together. When it ends Clarke watches a single tear escape down Lexa’s cheek. There’s no trace of the commander here, no _Heda_. Just Lexa. Open, vulnerable, expressive Lexa wearing her heart on her sleeve. She looks afraid, overwhelmed, as though she can hardly believe it’s real, until Clarke lays a hand on her cheek. She subtly leans into the touch and graces Clarke with the softest of smiles, her eyes heavy-lidded but still locked on to Clarke’s, and Clarke thinks - no, she knows - that this view right here is the grandest, the most beautiful, the most awe-inspiring. This is the sight she feels most privileged to witness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clarke longs to create images of Lexa, to depict her in sketches, paintings, and carvings - the way she'd created images of the earth she had imagined whilst on the Ark. So she does. Again and again, and Lexa marvels at her talent, not understanding the way Clarke looks at every finished product with a slight frown and downturned lips.
> 
> Lexa holds Clarke's latest creation in gentle hands and she blushes at seeing herself the way Clarke sees her. Only her face fills the canvas, larger than life and full or rich colours and details. Lexa had no doubt of the source of Clarke's inspiration; Lexa, on her knees before the Sky Princess, war paint smudged and heavy-lidded eyes sparkling in the candlelight, filled with promises and adoration.
> 
> Lexa remembered the way Clarke had reached out and touched her face with reverence despite the heat of the moment. Soft fingers had traced her cheekbones her jaw, her lips - blue eyes fixed on her green as she bit down gently on the pad of Clarke's thumb. Lexa knew now that Clarke had been memorising every detail of her expression to recreate the moment with the small collection of art supplies she'd found in a bunker recently.
> 
> Lexa doesn't mean to sound so breathless when she speaks. "Clarke, this is - I -". She swallows and tries again, focusing on the skill rather than the subject matter. "If this is what you're able to do with a few colours and brushes..."
> 
> Clarke smiles at Lexa's awe and blushes lightly as she walks over and kisses the commander on the cheek in acknowledgement. But her frown returns as she looks down at the painting in Lexa's hands. "It's okay, I guess".
> 
> "Okay? Clarke, it's amazing. Do you want more colours? We can find more. We have some craftsmen among our people in Polis, they may be able to make some for you".
> 
> Clarke laughs lightly and shakes her head. "It's not that, Lexa. Although I wouldn't mind having more colours".
> 
> "So what is it then, Clarke? You never look happy with your work".
> 
> Clarke takes the painting from Lexa's hands and puts it aside. She steps up close to Lexa, putting her hands against strong shoulders as the slightly taller woman's hands come to rest at her waist.
> 
> "I could have all the colours in the world," she begins in a raspy whisper. She leans in closer and closer as she speaks until her lips are gently touching Lexa's cheek, her chin, her nose, punctuating each word. "Watercolours, oil paints, pastels, pencils, pens. I could have all the canvases, all the sketchbooks, every kind of paper and every kind of paintbrush. But I still wouldn't be satisfied".
> 
> Lexa's face is tingling from the brush of soft lips and she takes in Clarke's easy smile and hazy eyes. She tilts her head in question.
> 
> Clarke chuckles. She leans in and her lips tickle the shell of Lexa's ear. "My art of you will never be as breathtaking as the real thing".


	2. And When We Meet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 100% inspired by the first chapter of 'And When We Meet' by underthecovers (https://archiveofourown.org/works/13828749/chapters/31804104) <\--- Read it for this drabble to make sense and also because it's absolutely hilarious and wonderful. 
> 
> I love underthecovers' characterisation and the direction the story has taken so far, but I also couldn't stop thinking about this all day after I read it. So here I am derailing the first chapter with a bit of smut (which I don't really write much cos I'm really bad at it, so this is probably terrible).
> 
> Full credit to underthecovers for the setting and the bit I copied from their story here (the bit at the start in italics, totally plagiarised for context).

_"I prefer the top," Clarke smirks, and Lexa rolls her eyes before throwing a pillow at her as she goes to have her own shower. She's nervous about it and leaves the door half open as she's terrified she's going to end up locked in, trapped by steam and never able to get out again._

_Clarke exhales a long, slow and very soft sigh as she watches Lexa go to the shower. She's still aching and would like to scream at the way the heat pounds between her legs._

_"Wow, what the hell was that?" she whispers and moves back into the comfort of the blankets and bed. She remembers the words of Lexa's story and squirms a little, her mind conjuring up an image of the Commandant moving the young woman so that she's between her legs._

_Clarke groans to herself. This is ridiculous, but the accidental arousal is killing her, and she wants to slide her fingers between her legs, and she wants to come. Does she have time before Lexa finishes her shower?_

_Her eyes dart to the corner of the room as she hears Lexa opening the doors to enter the shower. She's got at least five minutes before she's out of the shower and dressed._

_Clarke groans and begins to touch herself as she imagines a pair of dark, green eyes staring into her own before fingers move through her slick wetness. Fuck._

_Clarke moans as she begins to touch herself there which is already so slick from listening to Lexa's crazy hot story. She imagines a beautiful full mouth, lips pressing against her own forcing her mouth open until she has to take whatever the Commandant wants her to take._

_Clarke feels the ache between her legs become heavy and she slides two fingers inside of herself. In the background, she can hear the constant sound of the shower as it cascaded across Lexa's body. God._

_What does that look like? Clarke's tongue slides over her lips as she imagines falling to her knees and taking Lexa into her mouth.  
Christ._

_*****_

Clarke was bathed in the fresh, earthy scent of Lexa’s soap wafting through the open door on a cloud of steam, further fuelling her imagination. With her eyes closed she could clearly see Lexa standing beneath the stream of water, rivulets running over her hair and down her back as the heat amplifies the smell of her skin and the smell between her legs. Clarke could feel Lexa’s hands on the back of her head, drawing her face in close to a patch of dark, neatly trimmed curls slick with more than just the water.

Clarke clawed at her own thigh with her free hand as she whimpered quietly and lost herself in her fantasy.

*****

Lexa wiped at the foggy mirror and smiled at her reflection to check her freshly brushed teeth. Most of the steam had travelled out into the bedroom since she’d left the door open, but things were still hot and damp inside the small bathroom. Anya had always joked that Lexa would feel right at home in the fiery depths of hell given the scalding temperature of her showers.

She could still feel the residual prickle of arousal on the skin of her arms and the thrum of it further south from her earlier interactions with Clarke. She wondered how she wold make it through the night sharing a space with the beautiful blonde currently occupying the top bunk. Perhaps a cold shower would’ve been the better choice just this once…

Lexa quickly pulled on her miniscule pyjama shorts and an old t-shirt. She glanced at her reflection one more time and hoped that she didn’t look like as much of a horny teenager as she felt. She closed her eyes and began counting backwards from ten, preparing to step back into the room. She’d made it to six when she heard a quiet groan and her eyes shot open.

Lexa stood perfectly still, holding her breath. The next few seconds passed with no out-of-the-ordinary sounds – just the ringing in her own ears and the monotonous clanging of the train rolling steadily over the tracks. She was about to exhale when she heard the barely audible rustle of bedsheets and then a breathy gasp that sounded suspiciously like her name. Her ears burned and she slowly let out her breath as she quietly stepped back into the room.

Lexa thought she might combust on the spot at the sight that greeted her. Clarke was laying over the blankets on the top bunk with her eyes closed, back arched, and legs spread. She was fully clothed but there was no mistaking the shape of her hand inside her pyjama pants.

Lexa’s legs took her forward of their own volition and she barely registered the voice in the back of her head telling her to retreat into the bathroom and not be a creep. Before she knew it, she was standing beside Clarke’s bed, the blonde’s body at her eye level.

When Clarke whimpered and breathed out her name again, her brow furrowed in concentration, Lexa felt powerless to fight herself as she reached out and placed her hand over Clarke’s bare arm where it disappeared beneath the waistband of her pants.

Clarke gasped again, this time in alarm as her eyes opened wide. She instinctively tried to jerk her hand out of her pants but Lexa pressed down on her forearm and slid her own hand down to rest on Clarke’s over her clothes.

Lexa’s eyes were dark and hungry, the green in them hardly visible. Clarke swallowed and Lexa’s eyes travelled over a freckle, soft lips, a dimpled chin, down to a slender neck. She gently pushed on Clarke’s hand, encouraging her to continue.

Clarke slowly pushed her fingers back inside of herself and shuddered. Her momentary fear at being caught was overpowered by the sheer eroticism of the predicament she’d found herself in. Here she was, in a pair of old, pink flannel pyjama pants and a tank top that had seen better days, fully clothed, a thin layer separating this beautiful stranger’s hand from hers. And yet she’d never felt more exposed with Lexa’s hooded eyes travelling over her body and the smell of the brunette’s soap clouding her senses.

Lexa could feel the heat radiating from Clarke’s body. When Clarke’s hand started moving again, her fingers pumping in and out of herself, Lexa slowly brushed her hand back up Clarke’s arm. She wanted to give Clarke every chance to stop her as she reached for the soft, creamy skin exposed by a rising tank top. Eyes the colour of the sky on a clear day had turned stormy, almost grey, and they followed the movement of Lexa’s hand. Clarke nodded gently, encouraging the touch.

Goosebumps followed the trail of Lexa’s gentle fingertips and fine, blonde hairs stood on end. Clarke sighed contentedly when Lexa laid her palm flat over the slope of her belly. Lexa took in every expression passing over Clarke’s face and every sound leaving soft lips as she slid her hand back down and slipped it slowly beneath a worn waistband. The guttural sound of approval egged her on and she kept her hand moving until she reached Clarke’s, still moving in and out, covered in her own arousal.

Lexa couldn’t keep the awe from her voice when she whispered, “Jesus, Clarke”.

Clarke grasped Lexa’s hand in her own and pushed two long, slender fingers into herself and cried out at the feeling. Lexa growled at the sudden feeling of tight muscles and wet heat and she felt Clarke clench tightly around her fingers in response. Lexa smirked even as she clung to the bed in fear that her legs would give way beneath her.

“Get up here”. The quiet demand was uttered in the sexiest rasp Lexa had ever heard. She realised she would need two hands to follow the instruction and reluctantly drew her occupied hand back. Clarke whimpered at the loss and Lexa wondered at the effect that Clarke was having on her. She feared they could get caught up in an endless cycle of lust, each responding intensely to the sounds, movements, feel, _presence_ of the other.

Lexa clambered up onto the top bunk as gracefully as she could and found eager hands waiting to pull her down onto the undulating body below her. Clarke’s eyes fluttered closed at the weight of Lexa pressing down on her. She tangled a hand in dark hair and pulled until plump lips crashed into her own.

The kiss seemed to send them both into a frenzy. Clarke brushed her tongue over a full bottom lip and Lexa instantly opened to her. Clarke smiled at the minty taste of Lexa's mouth. All the awkwardness of a first kiss with a stranger only served to make the moment more real, more tangible, as noses bumped and teeth clashed.

Clarke’s teeth clamped down a little too hard when a hand brushed against a sensitive nipple over her shirt. Lexa’s hand clenched in retaliation and Clarke moaned as their lips separated and she arched up into the touch.

“Please, Lexa”. Clarke was almost ashamed at how needy she sounded. _Almost._

Lexa’s lips moved to Clarke’s exposed neck and she delighted at the red marks littered across previously flawless skin as she nipped and sucked her way up towards Clarke’s jaw. Clarke squirmed beneath her as she traced the shell of the blonde’s ear with the tip of her tongue before biting down on her lobe.

“Please what, Clarke?”

Clarke shivered at Lexa’s sharp ‘k’ whispered into her ear. She was familiar with this game. She wanted to compete, to tease, to prove herself stronger than the brunette.

So she was ashamed when her voice betrayed her before her mind could catch up. “Please, fuck me”.

Lexa groaned against Clarke’s shoulder. She reached for one of Clarke’s hands and then the other, bringing them up to pin them against the mattress above Clarke’s head. She held the blonde’s slender wrists in one hand as her other hand trailed back down the curves beneath her. Lexa wasted no time as she slipped her hand into Clarke’s pyjamas and pushed three fingers into her.

Clarke was sure the other passengers had heard her, but she couldn’t hold back the shout that left her throat as she was suddenly stretched and filled. Lexa’s face was close to hers, long hair creating a dark curtain around them. All she could smell was Lexa’s skin, all she could hear were Lexa’s gentle grunts in her ear, all she could feel were Lexa’s fingers pushing into her harder, faster, curling inside of her to reach that spot that made her feel like she was floating amongst the stars. She was surrounded by Lexa, completely engulfed by this stranger she’d known for a handful hours, restrained and at her mercy.

She was more turned on than she could ever remember being.

Lexa brushed the tip of her nose over Clarke’s jaw, her cheek, her neck, taking in the scent of her. She whispered soft words of encouragement against Clarke’s ear and rewarded every whimper, every moan, with peppered kisses. She felt Clarke’s legs come up to wrap around her waist and felt Clarke’s hands straining to reach out and touch her. She brushed a thumb over Clarke’s clit and her hips jerked up in response.

“Lex. Ah! Close, so close”.

Lexa kissed Clarke’s temple as she released her wrists and whispered, “come for me”.

With her hands free, Clarke clawed at Lexa’s prominent shoulder blades, seeking a handhold to ground herself as she keened in pleasure and shuddered at the force of her climax. Lexa watched Clarke’s face with soft eyes and a gentle smile. She took in the shape Clarke’s lips made as she gasped for breath, and she leant in to kiss the frown lines between Clarke’s eyes.

Lexa slowed her hand but continued to move her fingers gently in and out of Clarke, curling them in just the right way to prolong the aftershocks wracking through Clarke’s body. Finally she stilled as Clarke’s walls clenched around her. The frown lines smoothed out, Clarke’s lips closed into a relaxed pout, and blue eyes opened slowly to look tiredly into green.

Lexa blushed and looked down at the mattress, suddenly shy in the aftermath. Clarke released her grip on Lexa’s shoulder blades and swept her hands beneath Lexa’s shirt to brush up and down her toned back. She pulled Lexa into her and reached out with her lips to press a sweet kiss to Lexa’s cheek.

Lexa let her head drop down onto Clarke’s chest. Clarke brushed a hand through Lexa’s hair and listened to the sound of their even breaths and the train continuing its journey towards Arcadia.

“You know, I was really worried that I was going to get stuck sharing a cabin with some creep…” Clarke waited for Lexa to look up before she continued. Lexa’s cheeks were rosy and the corner of her mouth was turned up in a hint of a smile. But her eyes looked scared, uncertain. Clarke moved her hand down from Lexa’s hair to cup her cheek, rubbing her thumb soothingly over Lexa’s sharp jaw. “I’m glad I hit the jackpot with the gorgeous weirdo instead”.

The pink tint of Lexa’s face intensified and she dropped her head back down, burying her face in the crook of Clarke’s neck with a tormented groan. Clarke cradled Lexa’s head and laughed. Lexa felt a tug in her chest at the sweet sound and the vibration of the laughter throughout Clarke’s body. She couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled up and out past her lips.

Clarke squirmed and Lexa realised suddenly that her fingers were still nestled in the blonde’s warmth. She slowly withdrew and Clarke’s laughter turned into a surprised gasp. Lexa raised herself up on an elbow so she could look down into Clarke’s eyes as she brought her fingers to her lips. She slowly licked her fingers clean, moaning lightly at musky taste. Clarke’s eyes followed her movements, turning hazy again with lust.

Clarke suddenly pulled Lexa into a heated kiss, tasting herself on plump lips. She pulled at Lexa’s bottom lip with her teeth as she pulled back and whispered, “your turn”.


End file.
